


Playing with the Devil

by mmerainbows



Series: Entertaining the Devil [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4530918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmerainbows/pseuds/mmerainbows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2 of the Entertaining the Devil series. Kurt and Blaine are reunited, but to what end and purpose is unclear as their positions in this world make a relationship difficult.  Thanks again to Sabby for betaing!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing with the Devil

The first snows had come, and with the harvest over, that meant being cooped up most of the day in the house and only leaving for Sunday service or to tend to the animals. Normally it was a chance to spend time with the family-, but this was the first winter they had a new addition to their home - Finn’s new wife Rachel.  

As a general rule, Kurt didn’t mind Rachel, even though the house was even more cramped than usual and efforts to give the new couple time to themselves led to awkward moments with Kurt, Carole, and Burt in the barn - all trying to keep busy when there was nothing really left to tend to in those moments. Moreover, Rachel was…. “enthusiastic”. Which was Kurt’s way of trying to put a positive spin on her obnoxious need to be doing something all the time. Kurt was fine with sitting alone in his part of the farmhouse loft, sewing together blankets he would sell on Sundays while Carole sold the remedies concocted in the winter, but Rachel always wanted to do something as a whole family group - be it playing cards or having deep conversations about things that really didn’t, and shouldn’t, matter to people of their caste. Honestly, what was the point of determining what the meaning of life was and why God chose one person or another to serve as his representative on earth, the king? Nothing came of it aside from heartache Kurt couldn’t express.

After they had returned from the parade a couple months past, no one dared mention Blaine again. None of them knew what it meant, having housed a prince, now a king, unwittingly. They hadn’t even kept him in the house. It was all made worse by Kurt knowing his dad knew about him and Blaine somehow, and even though Burt knew, and Kurt knew he knew, they could never speak of it. The closest they came was when Kurt walked into the barn one day to find Burt shoveling new hay into the stall they had kept Blaine in a few days after coming home from the parade.

Kurt’s heart had sunk watching his father. He had wanted to curl up in that spot again, the only thing he had left to connect with what had been Blaine - and not Blaine the king, but his Blaine.  

“That batch of hay smelled afoul… like it was keeping something in it that sapped the energy and the spirit. Best to have had it cleared it up,” Burt had huffed, deliberately making steady eye contact with Kurt.

Kurt had only been able to nod in response, taking his broom and weakly sweeping off the main floor to stop himself from falling to his knees. It shouldn’t have hurt so bad. It shouldn’t have made such a mess of him. But it did, and there was no solace to be found in his family or the church.

In fact, returning to church made things seem even worse. Now that Finn was married off, eyes turned to him. There was an expectation that he would find someone to court next, then marry, and then produce a brood of his own. Nothing could seem less appealing.  

“What about that McEvans girl? Sits a few pews up from our usual spot?” Carole offered as she and Rachel went about serving the men one evening after church, when the conversation had turned to marriageable prospects.

Kurt shrugged. “Pretty enough I guess…” A lie, at least for him. “... but not much in the way of brains. If I’m to be tied down with someone, it makes more sense to have someone that can cook and is useful around the home. Looks don't last.”

Burt nodded thoughtfully, as if he appreciated Kurt’s point, though Kurt felt his dad knew he was stalling.  

“If you ask me…” Rachel spoke up, “... you shouldn’t have to feel like you’re tied down at all. Marriage is a special, sacred union between a man and a woman… and I’m so lucky to be a part of that.”

By now, Kurt was used to holding back his gag reflex at the cutesy nonsense that came out of both Rachel’s and Finn’s mouths, and, as if on cue, Finn made doe eyes at Rachel and their hands reached for one another’s in an unreputable show of sappiness.

“Well, son…” Burt redirected the conversation back to Kurt, avoiding having to look at his step-son and daughter-in-law make googly eyes at one another for the upteenth time that day. “... You are of marrying age, but if you want to wait a season until some of the younger girls reach marrying age as well, it would give us time to build a couple additions onto the house. Already getting a bit cramped as it is with two married couples in here, let alone three.”

“... and a child on the way,” Carole uttered, head tilted and eyes narrowed as she looked over Rachel.

That caught everyone’s attention, and it was only Rachel who didn’t look surprised as she set a hand on her belly. “I had only just missed my moon time… you really are a good healer.”

Thankfully, that little announcement took all attention off Kurt for the evening as the family cracked open a bottle of spirits they had been saving for such an occasion. There was free-flowing laughter, a barrage of name suggestions from everyone, and plans on how to make sure the new addition to the Hummel family was welcomed properly. Burt was to make a cradle, Kurt would sew new blankets, Carole would make some baby frocks, Rachel would make a sling, and Finn would just try to stay out of everyone’s way.

For the first time in ages, Kurt wasn’t thinking about Blaine, or what could have been. His heart felt itself be freed of the cage that had been put around it, and he was able to consider the future.  Perhaps he could continue to put off a marriage, and instead focus on being the best uncle possible… or if he must marry, then at least he could have this joy of having a child of his own one day. Yes, a child would make it worth it.

~*~*~*~

The next morning, Kurt awoke with a strong headache, thumping itself around the edges of his skull in search of a passage out and becoming more demanding with each movement Kurt made to get out of bed. Yet he managed, wrapping his coat around him tightly as he pushed through the winter winds to the barn to milk the cows and feed the chickens.

He would make a playpen, he decided as he lazily milked cow after cow. A place to set the new nephew or niece as they worked. He had only heard about such constructs from friends at church, and they had only heard about them through rumours of how nobility reared their children, but it seemed like something easy enough to do that would also allow the child the safety to be out with them without being in danger of getting lost or being attacked by roaming animals.  

Kurt lingered in the barn, considering what materials he would need in order to make the pen last for as many children as he and Finn could sire. It might mean sewing some more hats or mittens for trade, but it could probably be done by the time the child was a few months old and ready for some more independance.

By the time Kurt returned to the farmhouse, he had made sketches in his mind of the design, ones he would transfer to paper. He was so lost in his thoughts that he failed to spot the horses and carriage parked on the far side of the house and didn’t realise the family had company until he stepped inside and turned to face his father sitting with two men he didn’t recognize, both wearing clothing that was too finely stitched to be from around his region.

“What’s going on...?”

Burt’s face was grave. He moved to stand up and respond to Kurt but the older of the two men shot up and looked over Kurt appraisingly before speaking.

“I am Cecil von Rosenash, servant to his majesty Blaine Anderson, ruler of the Northern Realms and Central Isles. His majesty has sent for you.”

Kurt blinked, and then blinked again. As if to prove himself, the man extended a hand with parchment in it out to Kurt who took it and looked at the page blankly for a moment before looking past Cecil and to Carole pleadingly.

“I read it, Kurt. You’re to be put in the king’s service.”

Cecil made a small snort before Kurt, drawing Kurt’s attention back to him just in time for the man to mutter about illiterates. Burt picked up on it and, as protective as he’d always been, made sure to not let it stand.

“Clearly, the king doesn’t have a problem having someone who can’t read in his service if he's sending for my son. Moreover, when you’re spending your day making sure everyone in the land can eat - reading isn’t a priority.”

“Indeed,” Cecil muttered, clearly not swayed by Burt’s words. “Well then. Pack your things. We leave immediately.”

Kurt still hadn’t gotten his head around the king’s, Blaine’s, request, and he again looked gaping towards his family. “But… what… I can’t just…”

“You have been ordered by the king to come serve at his court. Disobeying his rule is treason. Do you wish to commit treason?”

Kurt was left speechless, looking at his family one by one and then settling on his father, who was wincing such that Kurt knew he was holding back tears. Surely they couldn’t expect to tear Kurt away from his family. Not so swiftly, not so mercilessly.

Carole was the first to move, climbing up into the loft to collect Kurt’s things for him when it looked like Cecil was going to pipe up again when Kurt didn’t respond. Finn and Rachel followed suit, collecting what little Kurt had, along with what Carole brought down and setting it in the skin of the dreadwolf that had set Kurt on this course. Burt was the one to wrap it up, holding it out to Kurt who took it in trembling arms.

“Hans - pull up the carriage,” Cecil directed the other, much quieter, man who nodded and left the house. “You have until he draws up to say your goodbyes.”

Cecil stepped out after Hans, leaving the family to finally react as they would naturally - g - with gulped-back sobs and swallowing Kurt up in their arms. Everyone whispered to him at once while Kurt tried to hold in his own tears.

“You have someone scribe letters to us…”  
“This is an honor… it has to be…”  
“You’ll make us proud…”  
“Visit as soon as you’re allowed…”

Kurt couldn’t get a word in edgewise, nor could he think of anything suitable that could sum up his sorrow, his wishes, or his love. Finally, when everyone had pulled back at the sound of horseshoes clip-clopping along the road outside, Kurt reached to set a hand on Rachel’s belly.

“Be good, baby. Uncle will see you as soon as he can.”

He left after that. No good-bye’s, no declarations of love for his kin, and no thanking them for helping him get ready. Kurt couldn’t bear doing any of those things for he knew it would set into motion the tears he was just barely keeping at bay. Holding tightly to the fur of the dreadwolf, he climbed into the carriage, sat down, and watched his home grow smaller until he could no longer see it at all.

~*~*~*~

The ride was long, and so much more jarring than riding on a horse. When riding a horse, the rider could anticipate the bumps and movements, but such a thing was not possible from inside a carriage, and even the lush padding on the seats didn’t stop Kurt from tensing up every time they hit a hole in the road to protect his back from aching more than it already did from being stuck sitting for such a long stretch of time.

The only stops made were to relieve themselves, have dinner, and sleep at roadside inns that seemed to anticipate their arrival and needs. Hans didn’t speakeak, as Kurt discovered upon trying to engage the man in discussion the first few nights, and Cecil was just poor company. The man kept himself occupied looking over stacks of papers which he wrote in. Kurt had no idea what he was doing that kept him so occupied, and he dared not ask because the only things Cecil ever had to say were discouraging and insulting.

“How you manage to keep your hands so filthy even after they’re washed is beyond me.”  
“I’ve seen pigs with better table manners.”  
“Don’t they teach your kind hygiene?”  
“Is there a problem with your spine that you slouch all the time?”

Kurt tried his best to correct his flaws in such a way as to impress the man who was clearly used to people of a higher status. He scrubbed his hands until they cracked, paid attention to how Cecil ate and mimicked his habits, tried to keep himself as clean as he could without being able to bathe, and sat up straight until his back was numb from the effort. Still the comments born out of disgust came though, and Kurt had to wonder what Blaine was doing bringing him to court when it was clear he wouldn’t belong.

Unless it was all a ruse.  

The thought had passed through Kurt’s mind that Blaine has sent for him to ensure word of his sodomy did not spread - not that Kurt would tell anyone, or had. Perhaps he was being brought to court to be jailed… or executed. He would be made an example of. It was well known that the old king and queen had been harsh on sodomists that had been discovered, and even though he had bedded with Blaine, who was to say that he wouldn’t follow in his parents footsteps if only to throw out suspicion that he was a homosexual?

More than anything though, the thoughts that came to Kurt were those of his family. He had never gone more than a day without them and his heart ached to be apart from them. In his mind, he tried to conjure up the soothing words of his father, or the sweetness of Carole. His body ached for the friendly pats Finn would give him or the smiles that Rachel gifted him in passing. He would cry into the fur of the wolf at night, silent sobs of homesickness coupled with the confusion that came from being pulled away and put into a world he didn’t know.  

By the time they made it to the capital, Kurt’s rear was red from the bruising it had suffered on the journey, and his back was screaming with stiffness. Still, he craned his head out to look in amazement at the massive buildings, the masses of people he didn’t think could exist all at once, and the beauty of the castle before him. For a moment, he forgot his woes and heartache, swept up in awe, until Cecil yanked him back inside the carriage and muttered something about “dumb-eyed peasants” before returning to his work.

Once the carriage was parked, in a stable below the long shadow of the white castle, Kurt was led in through a side door. Cecil directed him through a maze of halls, stairs, and finally into a room as big as the whole of his farmhouse but with only one bed in it - and a massive one at that. A large metal tub sat by the fireplace, with several attendants waiting aside it.

“You will strip down and be cleaned of your filth,” Cecil declared, clapping his hands, which set the attendants in motion. Kurt yelped as his clothing was yanked off, leaving him in shame as they led him to sit in the tub where he was then scrubbed all over, had his nails cut down, hair trimmed, and the few whiskers he had shaved clean. All around him was bubbles, and while it seemed like it might be relaxing, nothing was further away from the truth. His skin was rubbed raw with bristled brushes, until it seemed to be good enough for Cecil’s liking, the ends of his fingers hurt where he was used to having some length of nail to cover it, and his scalp stung from the way his hair was tugged and toyed with. With all the negative sensations being afforded to him, Kurt only noticed Cecil picking up his discarded clothes with the end of a fire striker and tossing them into the flames when it was too late to stop him.

“Hey!” he cried out in protest, capturing Cecil’s stoic eyes who merely pushed the clothing further into the fire with the end of the poker.

“They’re threadbare, filthy, and utterly unbecoming of anyone serving his majesty. I have sent for fresh clothing for you.”

Helplessly, Kurt watched as Cecil collected his other changes of clothing from within the bundle of dreadwolf fur and tossed them into the fire as well, leaving him with only said fur and his sketches from home. Then, Cecil took the fur itself and handed it over to another attendant who arrived at the door.

“See that this is thoroughly laundered. I will inspect it myself to ensure all the lice and grime is gone from the leather.”

Kurt had to nip down on his lower lip to stop himself from protesting further. There was no point in it, for Kurt knew that Cecil knew better than he did when it came to being presentable. That was made abundantly clear on the long journey to the capital.

The bath was not the end of things though. Once he was deemed sufficiently washed, Kurt was subjected to several hands wiping him over with scented oils, almost violating him in the process. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he was powdered with another fragrant substance before being dressed in clothing that was, admittedly, much better quality than anything he had ever owned, though it itched at his neck and was too snug around his hips and shoulders, limiting his movement.

“Well, I think that will do,” Cecil finally huffed, looking Kurt up and down and up again. With a snap of his fingers, the attendants left through the door, taking their cleansing products with them. “I will let his majesty’s schedule keeper know you are prepared for an audience.”

Oh. Kurt took in a breath, remembering why he was there in the first place. Blaine. He was going to see Blaine. Suddenly he was very glad he was made to look as fine as he was sure he had been. “Do I… wait here?”

Cecil nodded, gesturing to the bed. “His majesty has a busy schedule, so his arrival will be announced before he enters. You’re best to rest in the meantime.”

The bed.  “Ah...” Kurt pressed his lips together before summoning the nerve to ask. “...what does his majesty expect from me?”

Cecil lifted an eyebrow, as if skeptical that Kurt truly didn’t know. “In his efforts to build favour with all the small locals, he has selected young men from all distant areas of the realm. He will assess your qualities and then give you an appropriate post.”

Kurt nodded, holding in his breath yet. So he hadn’t been brought to the capital merely on a whim, and certainly not for Blaine’s affection. The mention of other men besides him being brought over tugged at his heart a bit, and he tried to dismiss the idea of Blaine bedding with other men as Cecil left him alone. Climbing into the massive bed, Kurt reveled in how soft the blanket was, and the cushion beneath it. Surely it was made of real down or at least something finer than the hay stuffed sheets they used at home.

Home. Kurt pinched his eyes shut at the thought. What wasas his family doing at home? He had lost track of the days with nothing better to do than sit and suffer Cecil’s constant disgruntlement. Did they miss him? Were they busy? Was his niece or nephew growing strong in Rachel’s belly?

He hadn’t intended to fall asleep, instead trying to figure out what to say and ask of Blaine, and wondering what he could even say or ask. The man was a king after all - it changed the entire dynamic better them. They were not equals, not even close, yet Kurt wanted to know why Blaine had him torn away from everything he knew if only to be a servant in a place that terrified him.

It was to those thoughts that Kurt drifted off, waking up to a bang at the door. In his rest, the fire had turned to coals and Kurt had to wipe a spot of drool off his cheek. Through the slit of a window he could see only stars hanging in the dark sky, meaning he had dozed off for hours. Another knock sounded, and he jumped off the bed, running his hands down his clothing and then yelling out. “Yes? I’m here…”

“His majesty the king will see you.”

A shudder of a breath trickled into Kurt’s lungs, one that he held onto as the door snapped open and the man he had been fixated on for months stepped in before him. He was dressed in red finery, with a slender band of gold crowning his curls, and looking every bit the king he had when Kurt had seen him on parade.  

The door shut on its own behind Blaine, and Kurt, remembering himself, dropped to his knees and stared at the floor, both out of respect and to hide the blush in his cheeks. “Your majesty.”

But Kurt wasn’t on his knees for long. Strong hands grabbed him from under his armpits, pulling him up so that soft lips could connect with his own, fierce and predatory. Being beside the bed made it easy for Blaine to knock Kurt back as he took a step forward and forced Kurt to bend back on the bed where Blaine’s lips and hands followed, searching for entrance to the skin trapped under the fresh layers of clothing. When he was allowed to take a breath, Kurt had to share it with a surprised utterance of, “My king…?”

“So long…” Blaine growled, giving up on sliding a hand into Kurt’s clothing in favour of tugging up his shirt so he could twist one of Kurt’s nipples between his fingers. “It’s been so long…”

A whine fell out of Kurt’s lips. He wanted to ask, wanted to know what had happened and why he was there, but all his mind could recognize in the heated fog it was suffering was how aroused and hot he was. His clothing was absolutely binding, and he needed it off, and he needed more of Blaine’s lips on his own.

So he lifted his head up to meet Blaine’s lips again, moaning as Blaine’s tongue drew itself along the inside of Kurt’s mouth. One hand continued to tease Kurt’s nipples, flicking and twisting them so they were erect and tender, while the other hand pushed down Kurt’s pants and undergarments all at once, letting his ready cock spring out and bounce against the silky material covering Blaine’s crotch, which ground down against Kurt as soon as his pants were not a concern anymore.

Kurt whimpered, crying out when Blaine’s hand reached around his hips and grabbed one of his cheeks. It was pulled away from the other, the cool night air hitting the tight hole below him right before one of Blaine’s fingers found it and started rubbing over it.

With the noise, Blaine detached his lips from Kurt’s, bowing his head down to whisper into Kurt’s ear. “You must be quiet. Can you be quiet?”

If it meant continuing on with what was happening, Kurt would surely try. He weakly nodded up at Blaine before having to slap a hand over his mouth to muffle out the noise that came naturally when Blaine pushed his wandering finger up into him, just a nails length, before pulling it back out and reaching into the pocket of his robe to retrieve a vial of what Kurt assumed was lubricant to make the burn less.

As he moistened a finger, Blaine also shoved his pants down, allowing his own thirsty erection to spring loose. Kurt looked down at it hungrily. In that instant, there was nothing he wanted more than that piece of meat. He needed it to scratch the itch inside him and make everything feel okay again.

Blaine’s cock rutted against Kurt’s thigh as he pressed a now oily finger back up into Kurt, this time completely wedging it within him without pause, and while it still burned, at least it wasn’t creating any painful friction. It was plunged in once, twice, and then on the third push in it was accompanied by a second finger, making Kurt shudder and bite down on his fingers to stop from crying out. He felt every twitch of Blaine’s fingers inside him, moving, sliding, stretching. It hurt and it felt good all at once, and given how his cock was leaking precum onto his belly, it was no question which sense was overpowering the other.

“God… I’ve been waiting for this… waiting for you…” Blaine cooed, still a whisper as he slicked up his cock while continuing to draw his fingers in and out of Kurt. “I had to wait for it to be safe… for my rule to be unquestioned…”

With that pronouncement, Blaine’s fingers were removed and his cock slammed in to replace them before Kurt could even bat an eyelash. Rather, his eyes went wide at the sharp stretch and he had to bite down even harder on his fingers to stop from yelling out. Everything in him suddenly went tight, stiff, as the nerves in his ass thrummed and sent shocks through all his muscles.  

Blaine’s eagerness was not lost on him though, and he slowed himself, taking Kurt’s own erection in his hand and pumping it in time to his thrusts until the pain subsided and Kurt could loosen the hold his teeth had on his digits. The fog in his head returned, shutting off everything that wasn’t completely necessary for his current survival so he could focus on the regular shots of pleasure that trickled through him with each stroke and thrust, until he had to again nibble down on his fingers to mute his cry as he reached orgasm, covering himself and Blaine’s hand in sticky whiteness.

Blaine let go of him once he had completely drained himself, speeding back up until the only sound left was the slap-slap-slap of his flesh on Kurt’s and the whispered ‘Ah-ah-ah’s coming from Kurt, forced to remain conscious and stimulated even after having orgasmed as hard as he thought was possible.With a final smack of flesh, Blaine froze in place, emptying himself into Kurt with a shake before pulling out and pulling his pants back up.

Kurt could feel the cum trickle out of his gaping hole, which burned now with the rush of air invading him. At some point he had shut his eyes, and couldn’t seem to recall how to open them, though he felt the bed shift beside him and assumed the body that turned him to his side and cuddled up against his back was Blaine, still in his silky garb, and breathing heavily against the back of his neck.

It took awhile for Kurt’s senses to come back to him. First the taste of copper in his mouth, then the smell of sex and sweat. He remembered how to open his eyes, and took a moment to stare at the coals of the fireplace before listening to Blaine’s soft, steady breaths behind him and turning slowly over onto his other side so he could lay face to face with Blaine - who had passed out.

Despite all the silk and the crown, which was now sitting lopsided on his head, Blaine still looked like he had in the barn, and Kurt couldn’t help himself as he pressed tiny kisses along Blaine’s clean shaved jawline and up to his ear. Kurt hadn’t made any expectations of their reunion, but this had certainly exceeded anything he thought possible.

“Mmm… sorry… meant to talk… couldn’t help myself…” Blaine murmured lazily, eyes slitting apart to look at Kurt with nothing short of adoration.

“It’s alright, my king, I -”

“Blaine. Damn it. I want to be Blaine to at least one person still.”  

Kurt pressed his lips together, wondering if he could break the most natural protocol he knew and then forcing himself to. “Blaine… why’d you summon me?”

A groan came out of Blaine’s mouth, and he buried his head under Kurt’s chin and into his collarbone. “Isn’t it obvious? I would have done it sooner but I had to be careful. My father knew about my predilections and I’m sure some of his senior staff and my mother knew as well... I needed to ensure I was unquestioned, and I needed an innocent plan to bring you here.”

“You brought me here because you missed me?” Kurt could scarcely fathom a king needing to send for some distant farmer.

“... because you’re the only one I know who’s accepted me for me. You didn’t know I was royalty. I was just Blaine to you.” A sigh followed that statement. “I hadn’t intended on becoming king. I meant to run away and stay away… but when I heard my dad had died… I knew I had to come back. Like you, I felt responsibility to my family.”

Kurt shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why did you lie to us?”

“Because I didn’t want to get caught. I thought I would keep running once I healed up…”

“But you didn’t.”

Blaine shook his head, amber eyes sorrowful. “I didn’t.”

Kurt forced himself to sit up, wincing at the way his body ached with the motion, and pulled his clothing back on. “What am I supposed to do here then? Wait for you each night?”

“Yes… no… I mean... “ Another sigh. “Your job assignment is to be my night attendant. That way I can be with you at night… I can see you… I can be myself for at least part of the time…”

“I don’t know anything about being an attendant….” Kurt admitted, sitting back on the bed and gently running his fingers over Blaine’s side, still as toned as he remembered it.

“You’ll be trained. Everyone I’ve brought in to serve has had no experience in their field but they’re all doing just fine from what I’ve heard.”

“Does it… ah… require reading, because… I can’t…”

“Cecil told me,” Blaine huffed the man’s name in disdain. “You’ll be given lessons. Honestly, no one I’ve brought in can read. I don't know why he was surprised when you couldn't.  There’s a class each day for the new recruits.”

Kurt nodded slowly. He would be taught to read and even if he returned to his home after serving, he would be only one of a few that could do that. Blaine’s affection would improve his social standing. He might even be able to work as a healer as Carole was. No one would expect him to marry if he had that responsibility.

“Otherwise, you need to keep this, us, quiet,” Blaine noted, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing. “Kings have been murdered for less… and my father left a strong legacy of hating our kind of people.”

Again, Kurt nodded. He knew the risks, perhaps even more than Blaine did. As a commoner, his punishment would certainly be more severe than someone whose standing could get him out of trouble with a simple banishment or confinement to a tower. Kurt would not tell a soul.

“Good… then get yourself naked again,” Blaine intoned lowly, eyes growing dark as he looked over Kurt. “I haven’t seen you in months and I intend to make up for that lost time as much as I can tonight.”

~*~*~*~

Blaine made good on his word. So good, in fact, that Kurt couldn’t move the next morning and had to feign illness from travelling when Cecil came to check in on him. The man cocked one of his grey eyebrows up, either out of suspicion or contempt - Kurt couldn’t tell - and then told Kurt that regardless of how he felt, he should expect to join the literacy class in the evening and that his training would begin the next day.

It was a relief to just be able to lay back, rest, and absorb everything that had happened in solitude for most of the day. Blaine had left after he could no longer get aroused, letting Kurt know that he wasn’t sure when they could next see one another since Kurt wouldn’t be starting his position for awhile yet and it would be suspicious if Blaine visited again. The walls in the castle had ears apparently, and they enjoyed gossiping just as much as the people back home did.  

As the week progressed, Kurt adapted to his new environment. It took a while for him to get used to being served food, and so much and such rich delights too. He didn’t know how he’d stay trim on such a diet. He also had to take back all the thoughts he had about people in the capital being lazy because all the training he had kept him busy from morning until night. He learned everything from how to hold a tray in a specific way, to protocol around different people, to how to walk like a gentleman, to how to clean a room fit for royalty. Then he would go to his lessons with other men his age from all around the kingdom, learning each letter of the alphabet, how it sounded in different situations, and how to write it. Hopefully he’d learn enough to be able to write his family letters.

He would see Blaine around, walking through the courtyard or through the main hall, and Kurt would avert his eyes lest someone accuse him of staring. Blaine never lingered when they were in the same room, and Kurt had to wonder, with his eyes turned away, if Blaine had seen him there too.

Kurt also saw Blaine’s family. His mother still donned black, and seemed to move around the castle without purpose, aimless and empty eyed. Blaine’s older brother, Cooper, Kurt would see engaged in sword fighting practice in the courtyard where numerous ladies would come to watch him, sweaty and shirtless, stab the hell out of a straw dummy.   They all were quite vocal in their lamentations that Cooper wouldn't marry.

He also saw Blaine’s father via a set of portraits that hung in the hall of the royal family. Some were with the children, one was with his wife in their younger years, and one was him all alone. The man looked stern in all of them. Blaine had his hair and his brows, but try as he might, Kurt could never see Blaine as someone who exuded anger the way his father had in those paintings.

Despite the castle being a busy place, with servants everywhere and his class filled with other common men all struggling to learn to read, Kurt felt alone. Those servants that had been in the castle since birth, he realized, looked down on the group that had been brought in from around the realms, and so ignored them when not forced to interact with them. The royalty and the nobility ignored them, and when they were in their own group, their instructor was so strict he would snap a ruler on the knuckles of any man who was not completely dedicated to their work. By the time they all retired to bed, they were too exhausted to talk, let alone socialize.  

Two weeks in, Kurt’s training had progressed from being taught by other servants to being taught directly by Cecil himself, who, Kurt discovered, was master of staff. Cecil was just as unforgiving as his reading instructor, snapping a leather switch over Kurt’s fingers if he didn’t hold himself perfectly. As a night attendant, Kurt was supposed to be awake and alert all through the night while maintaining perfect poise and composure. He needed to be able to stand on the inside of the door, blending into the background so that if Blaine had company or, as Cecil asserted, a woman in the room that he would not be noticed. Kurt’s stomach turned at that thought, wondering if it was commonplace for the king to bring women to his bed and wondering if he would have to suffer through watching if Blaine did. Cecil also taught Kurt basic fighting moves, just in case someone got past the guards always stationed outside of Blaine’s doors. According to Cecil, Kurt would be the final bit of protection against someone seeking to commit regicide. If Blaine could handle a dreadwolf though, certainly he could protect himself, Kurt thought to himself.

Finally the day came when he was put on duty in Blaine’s room, and for the first few hours all he did was stand at attention by the door, trying not to shift in his boots in case Cecil was spying on him - which he didn’t put past the man. Blaine was kept busy, Kurt had been told, and some nights he might not come in until late, so Kurt spent his time looking over the room that was Blaine’s. A huge bed, covered in furs and satin sheets, a fireplace that could house a small family of its own, a tub that seemed permanently affixed to the floor, and a writing desk covered with papers and smudged with ink.

When Blaine finally did arrive, the first thing he did was double take at Kurt standing by the door before grinning and shutting the inside latch of the door and, ,like he had the first night Kurt had come to the castle, Blaine moved to connect his lips with Kurt’s before Kurt could even greet him.

Just like that, all Kurt’s training was undone as he moved and squirmed against Blaine’s hands which had magnetically found their way up Kurt’s shirt, running his fingers around Kurt’s areolas and his thumbs over the sensitive nipples.  

“You have to be quiet…” Blaine whispered, laying a trail of kisses down from Kurt’s mouth, to his jawline, and then down his neck. “... Guards just outside… though I would love to hear you scream my name.”

Just the words themselves were enough for Kurt to let out a moan, which he caught by pressing his lips down on one another as tightly as he could. A button popped off Kurt’s shirt, and then Blaine was pulling it off his head and nudging down Kurt’s pants until they bundled up around the tops of his boots. Kurt could barely get Blaine’s tunic pulled up before Blaine just peeled it off himself and let it fall to the floor, his chest pressing back against Kurt’s as he resumed leaving marks on every part of Kurt he could find with his lips.

“Every night now… I’ll get you every night…” Blaine murmured, shoving his pants down and kicking them off along with his boots. His hands were free then to reach around Kurt and cup a handful of ass in each of them, squeezing them and pulling them away from one another so his fingers could slink in further and rub at the hole that Kurt felt had been neglected for far too long.

“Please… “ Kurt whined lowly, staring intently at Blaine, sure his own eyes had eclipsed as he panted softly.  

“Of course,” Blaine uttered softly, bringing a hand up and sucking on his fingers before returning them, sloppy with his saliva, and wiggling one of them up inside of Kurt who dropped his head against Blaine’s shoulder where he could muffle his lips against Blaine’s shoulder.

One finger was satisfying enough for a minute, but no longer, and Kurt whispered pleas for “more” and “faster” without even registering the words going through his head. Blaine brought his hands back to his mouth again, repeating the natural lubrication with a fresh finger and pushing it and the original back into Kurt as soon as they returned to his ass. They were still standing, or rather, Blaine was standing and Kurt was slumped against him, barely able to keep himself balanced with the stimulation inside him, rubbing and bumping against the bundle of nerves that robbed him of his ability to think straight. It wasn’t until Blaine lifted Kurt, a hand holding onto each cheek and propped Kurt's back against the wall, that Kurt completely lost all control though. His boots, and pants along with them, slid off his feet and fell to the floor courtesy of gravity, and Blaine’s feet kicked them back behind them as he positioned himself under Kurt, lining his blunt head up against the hole that was spread by the way Blaine was holding the globes of flesh on either side apart. Then there was pressure again, and Blaine used gravity to his advantage as he loosened his grip on Kurt enough for Kurt to impale himself on Blaine’s cock.  

To help both himself and Blaine, Kurt hooked his legs over Blaine’s hips and his arms around Blaine’s shoulders. He ached, of course, but he wanted this, needed it. It was why he was in the capital after all, and it was the only form of contact he had that was even remotely positive, and he yearned for it. His body wanted Blaine like it wanted nothing else. He wanted to be wanted. It was the only time he felt like he belonged in this place.

Blaine had stilled for a moment to allow Kurt’s body to relax around him, and spent that time whispering sweet things into Kurt’s ears and nibbling along Kurt’s neck and earlobe. “You’re so striking… I’ve seen the girls look at you and…” He bit down gently on Kurt’s collarbone, sure to leave a mark. “... I just want to take you and have my way with you before them… so they knew that you’re mine. No one else can have you.”

All Kurt could do in his position was groan in acknowledgement, having to again bite his tongue when Blaine began to pull back and thrust back into him, forcing his back to rub against the stone walls with the movement. He held onto Blaine tighter, but as Blaine slammed into him faster and more furiously, Kurt accepted that he would have scratches on his back from the stoney wall, and let himself focus on the pleasure. His cock was caught between their rocking bodies, and even though no hand touched it, it was stroked by their abdomens moving up and down. Between that and the way the position managed to hit his sweet spot perfectly, Kurt came hard and without warning, again having to silence himself against Blaine’s skin.

“Oh… Oh god…” was what Kurt heard from Blaine several thrusts later when he pounded himself in one last time and fell forward a little, pinning Kurt harder against the wall in order to get some support for himself as he came and then panted for breath.

Kurt’s legs slowly fell, so low on blood flow and disconnected from the rest of him, and Blaine pulled out, his seed falling down Kurt’s thighs in a trickle. Once more their lips attached, tongues swiping over one another as they held fast against each other until Blaine finally had the sense to pull back and suggest a shared bath.

It was the start of what had to be the easiest and most enjoyable job anyone could have have that Kurt could imagine. Aside from standing in wait when Blaine was kept by meetings, Kurt spent most of his nights entangled with Blaine in his bed, sharing baths, being massaged and pampered by Blaine, and snacking on the very best food in the kingdom left behind by the dinner attendants before Kurt’s shift began. Of course, they also slept together too, but Kurt was careful not to fall asleep for too long at a time lest some other servant come in to see them together. Blaine needed his sleep at night, but Kurt was afforded sleeping time during the day because of his late shift, and he was quite alright with spending that time mapping Blaine’s naked body with his eyes and hands.

Blaine also gave him gifts. A notebook to practice his writing in, a set of children’s fairy tale books perfect for learning to read with, a set of oils to use in the bath, and a simple metal band to wear around his wrist.

“So you know I care even when I can’t show it,” Blaine had explained as he affixed it on Kurt’s wrist as Kurt made a mental note to never take it off, keeping it hidden under the wrist of his shirt.

Of course, not everything was wonderful. Kurt picked up quickly on the staring he received from other servants, the whispering behind his back that accompanied it, and the purposeful distance he received from everyone. When it wasn’t the castle staff, it was other nobles, peering his way and sneering - though whispering to one another behind their hands much the same as the servants they looked down upon.

Sunday’s were the worst. All in the castle were expected to attend service, just as Kurt had come to expect growing up, but it was nothing like the church back home. The chapel was massive in comparison, and gaudy with elaborate decoration. The man leading the chants up at front was much better dressed, and had a fancy hat all his own that rivaled the official crown Blaine wore in his pew at the front. Servants had to stand at the back, as all seating was reserved for nobility, royalty, and the capital clergy. It was cramped, yet Kurt never had a difficult time having space to breath, if only because everyone gave him a wide berth.

They also didn’t follow up the service with festivities and socializing. Servants had to go back to their duties, for which Kurt was grateful because after staying up all night with Blaine, and then attending a lengthy service he had to stand for, he was exhausted.

“I imagine your mother was pleased to see you when you came back…” Kurt uttered one lazy evening, when their bodies had given up trying to go another round and he found himself drawing his fingers over the scars on Blaine’s leg left behind by the dreadwolf.

“Mmm…” Blaine looked up, towards the canopy hanging over the bed. “Not sure. She was either relieved or disgusted. Never can tell with her.”

Kurt frowned, glancing up from where he had been staring at the skin marred with purple. “What...?”

“Now Cooper on the other hand…” Blaine changed the subject away from his mother, as he had whenever Kurt noted that he had seen her around or asked about her wellbeing as he figured a lover ought to do. “.... you could see nothing but relief on his face. As soon as he came of age he pledged himself to the sword and shield. Somehow he managed to convince our father that I was better suited to the crown. I think he’s the only person alive that wanted to be king less than I did.”

“Would he have had to if you hadn’t returned?” Kurt queried, moving his fingertips up and into the thatch of fur on Blaine’s chest as he reclined on his side beside the king.

“Perhaps… though because he was never trained for the role like I was there might have been some distant cousins of ours ready to jump in to claim the position.” Blaine sighed and looked over at Kurt pleadingly. “Can we talk of other things? I spend all day being the king and look forward to this time as Blaine.”

Kurt nodded, tracing a finger in the shape of letters over Blaine’s torso. “I can spell my name now... all of it… K - U - R -...”

Blaine laughed at the touch, and the sound was worth Kurt putting his curiosity aside for the moment. He knew that no one else made Blaine laugh like he did, if what he overheard around the castle was true. Blaine was gruff and grim with everyone, all business with a stoic disposition to rival Cecil’s - yet Kurt got to see him as he truly was, if only for a little while each day before he fell asleep, and for awhile, that was all Kurt needed to get past the alienation of everyone else, and the loneliness he endured for all the other hours of the day.

~*~*~*~

Kurt got used to being alone. It gave him time to focus on improving his reading and writing such that he could send a simple letter to his family after the winter holidays, and it earned him some very rare praise from Cecil who noted that his focus on improving his craft was something all servants should aspire towards.

He learned to ignore the whispers, the looks, and the snickers that he earned in passing. Somehow he knew Blaine wasn’t experiencing the same thing as he was, but he also didn’t want to burden Blaine by complaining about the behavior of others in the castle. After all, Blaine had gone to great lengths to bring Kurt to the castle, to improve his quality of life,all because he cared for Kurt. Kurt reminded himself to be thankful and gracious for that, especially since he was able to send coin to his family in turn. He had no use for it after all, not with the way Blaine pampered him. It wasn’t like he would go drinking with anyone else in the castle either. He knew perfectly well no one else wanted him around.

Kurt also didn’t pay much attention to talk surrounding the royal family since he knew it wasn’t something Blaine would want to speak about. He did hear murmurings about arranging a wedding, as well as the need for an heir, but Kurt assumed that if there was a real threat of Blaine having to marry, Blaine would have told him.

Except that Kurt assumed wrong.

It happened in the early spring, when Kurt had been settled into his new life for months. The sun had risen to its peak and was on its descent when the door to Kurt’s room shot open and slammed shut, waking Kurt from his slumber with such force that he sat right up in bed.

“What? Who?” were the words that he automatically snapped out, looking at Blaine in fear as the king stood before him, panting in breaths and banging a fist against the wall below the open window. Since they had initially reunited, this was the first occasion that Blaine had come to Kurt’s room, and for it to occur midday when Blaine was usually meeting with his advisors meant something had happened.

Something very wrong.

“They cannot force me to! It’s outrageous! I am the king!” Blaine shouted at the wall, and Kurt drew his blanket up over his naked body, glancing at the door and then back to Blaine to ensure they were truly alone in the room and that the king wasn’t speaking to someone else.

“Blaine…? What? What’s going on?” Kurt asked, softening his voice. He had never seen Blaine in such a state, and, in truth, it both excited and scared him for he wanted to know all sides of Blaine, but also was not used to such rage - from anyone, let alone Blaine.

Blaine responded with a small whine before finally looking to Kurt with such a broken expression that Kurt’s heart momentarily melted before thumping against his ribs as Blaine crawled into the bed and straddled Kurt over the sheets. Sheets that were quickly grabbed and yanked away from Kurt with one hand before returning to push his trousers down to his knees. It was all the warning Kurt got before Blaine pushed Kurt onto his belly and rutted himself up against Kurt’s pucker, not breaching it right away, at least not until Kurt could suck on his fingers and then reach back to wet his hole as much as he could before Blaine finally pushed himself in - and Kurt was so very glad that they had had a marathon of sex the night before because, while he was still tender, he was also still relaxed enough to accept Blaine’s length without too much pain.

Now usually, even when they were having a much more wild romp, Blaine still focused on making it good for them both - but this was clearly Blaine trying to exercise out his frustrations, whatever they were, on Kurt. He plunged himself in and out so fast and so hard that Kurt couldn’t even get his hand to his mouth to cover the sharp whimpers and long whines he was making, and Blaine, for once, didn’t seem to care because he too was grunting loudly enough that anyone in the hallway would be able to figure out exactly what was going on in Kurt’s room, especially when Blaine gasped and made a choked out cry into the air as he slammed in one last time and came within Kurt who trembled below him - stimulated, sore, and completely confused by what had just occurred.

Blaine slumped down on top of Kurt, breathing heavily and clinging onto the body below him without making any effort to pull himself out or explain himself. It wasn’t until Kurt finally mustered the courage to speak that Blaine made any indication he wasn’t passed out.

“... what was that?”

Blaine sighed into Kurt’s back, though made no effort to lift himself. “They’re making me marry.”

Kurt’s heart sped back up after a second of feeling like it could slow, thundering in his chest as he tried to piece together what had led up to this event. “The council?”

“Yes, the fucking council,”  Blaine spat before finally, FINALLY, getting up and off of Kurt who winced and grimaced as Blaine left his pucker gaping, more sore without the intrusion than it was with it. “A fucking million and one reasons why I should, but no one seems to care that I’m the fucking king. If there’s one damned thing thing I should be able to do, it’s decide whether or not I can damn well marry.”

Kurt pulled his sheet back up and over him, drawing it around him tightly as he rested on his side and watched Blaine, who had pulled up his pants by that time, pacing back and forth in the room.  

“Why the hell do you keep the window open? It’s damned cold.”

Kurt glanced over at the window, before looking back to Blaine. “I grew up in a colder place… usually it’s too warm for me to sleep otherwise…”

Blaine snorted contemptuously, continuing his pacing as if he was trying to make a trench in the stone floor. “Why the hell do you have such a small room? What the hell was -”

“This room is nearly as big as my whole house back home Blaine… without the loft anyhow. There were five people living in that space… this is more than enough -”

“No. It’s damned well not. It’s not enough. It’s ridiculous. It’s -”

“Blaine.”

“My dad’s mistress had her room connected to his and it’s just not right. It shouldn’t be…”

Kurt frowned, glancing down at himself as Blaine’s continued to rant. All the sickness he had shoved down inside him from being isolated rose up to the surface, making him feel like he might vomit. Reality set upon him, brought on by Blaine’s own words, and suddenly Kurt could no longer repress himself.

“Children starve and people go hungry all over your kingdom and you’re upset because you have to marry?”

Blaine blinked and looked back at Kurt, stilled to silence by the outburst, which continued.

“... and even then, those people certainly don’t marry for love or affection or necessarily by choice. It’s expected of them, too. There’s nothing special about what’s being asked of you…”

“But… Kurt -”

“I’m never going to be anything more than your whore, Blaine! That’s not going to change.”

Kurt heaved in his breaths through gritted teeth as he looked at Blaine’s stunned expression, and Kurt did not relax when Blaine knelt before him, against not even to finger those dark curls when he rested his head in Kurt's lap and sobbed softly.

“You’re not though… you’re not…”

“I am. Everyone else knows it. I know it. The council knows it, and it’s probably why they’re imposing marriage on you.”

“But -”

“We read a book on history. Know what I learned from it? Wars happen when people don’t trust in their ruler or they don’t have a certain ruler. You can’t leave the realm without an heir. You can’t give them reason to doubt you as a leader, because if there is a war, it will be my father and my brother that have to fight it, and if they die in a war caused by your selfishness, I will never forgive you.”

Blaine stopped trying to talk, and just quietly cried into Kurt’s lap, like a child begging for affection from an angry parent. It made Kurt’s heart ache, and he longed to reach out and embrace Blaine but found himself frozen in place, hardened by pain he had pushed down inside himself for too long.

“If they want you to marry, you will marry. It won’t stop them from whispering, but if you can produce an heir, it might just satisfy them enough to not care about what you do with me.”

More soft cries painting the sheets on Kurt’s lap with tears, and Kurt finally held his breath and his tongue - if only to work on stopping himself from shaking like he just realized he was.

“I... I brought you here… to be mine…”

Kurt sighed. Blaine was a child. Perhaps he was the first one to realize it, or perhaps he was the only person in the whole damned castle who didn’t know it until then, but it was clear Blaine had been spoiled, and only now was suffering from someone finally telling him no.

“You did, and I am… but you didn’t think past that did you? Or beyond what you wanted for that matter. Are you expecting me to just happily bed you forever while everyone else spits on my name because they know what I am? What we are? Did you really think that bringing me here would make people okay with what we do? Did you think about how you plucked me away from my family and the only life I knew? Did you consider anything at all outside of what you wanted?”

There was insufferable silence, broken up only by the occasional soft whimper as Blaine worked on composing himself. He kept his face hidden though, and it struck Kurt that, just as he had never seen Blaine enraged, he had never seen Blaine cry.

“I’m either already or will be an uncle soon… and I won’t even get to see the baby, Blaine… You know how much my family means to me… or at least you’ve said you do….”

“I’m sorry... “ Blaine squeaked out, his voice hoarse and broken. “I just… I just… I’m sorry.”

Kurt sighed, long and hard, looking up at the door and nearly able to make out the whispering that was occurring on the other side. If it wasn’t for the fact that Blaine was king, they probably both would have been burned alive by now. That thought of burning together was what finally gave Kurt the courage to move his arms, to wrap them around Blaine and pull him up against him to lay in the bed entwined. There he held Blaine until the man that was king was sleeping softly in his arms like a babe as Kurt tried to balance himself delicately in place so as not to fall back onto the cold, wet spot he had left behind.

No one came in, but Kurt knew that wasn’t stopping them from hovering around outside. Whatever tribulations he had accepted to this point were likely to just get worse.    

What made it harder was that he could empathize with Blaine. He knew the frustration of knowing that he would not be able to marry someone that he felt more… connected to. He could appreciate that if their roles were reversed, he might have sent for Blaine as Blaine had for him. Kurt certainly would have doted on Blaine.

Regardless of the situation, and how things might turn out, Kurt couldn’t imagine his life without Blaine now and that was the worst part of it all.

~*~*~*~

As expected, the other servants in the castle moved from excluding and alienating Kurt to insulting and teasing him. His heart hardened during the day, a way to deal with the words snapped at him in passing and in reading class.

"Whore."  
"Slut."  
"Ass-plougher."  
"Cocksucker."

Everyone always seemed so pleased with themselves when they made their hurtful comments, yet Kurt didn't respond, insteading silently acknowledging that while the words were mean, they weren't exactly false either.

At night he opened his heart up to softness again as Blaine held him tightly and alternated between telling him everything he enjoyed about Kurt and making passionate, tender love to Kurt. Gone was all the rough and heated sex that Kurt had enjoyed up to that point, and while he couldn't complain about how much Blaine took his cock into his mouth, Kurt also felt something was lacking.

In that void, Kurt would question Blaine. No longer was he satisfied with holding back his curiosity to avoid hurt feelings. If he was really going to settle for being Blaine's dirty little secret (and not a very well-kept one), then Kurt felt he deserved to know more and have more of a say, and Blaine, presumably picking up on that, obliged Kurt with responses.

"Does your mother know about us?"

Blaine would shrug, avoiding eye contact with Kurt as he answered. "I don't know. We don't talk."

"Why?"

"She has nothing I want to hear and I have nothing she wants to hear."

Kurt shook his head, scarcely able to imagine how Blaine could so easily set his mother aside when Kurt would do anything to have his own mother back in his life. "She's your mother, Blaine."

"She always has favored Cooper. He resembles her side of the family and he's the charming one. I think she was the most surprised when he rejected the throne, and the most disappointed. I doubt I was planned for as well, unlike him. The rumors are that she would take a tea to stop herself from having more children after she had Cooper, and since my father barely touched her, it was quite a shock when I arrived."

Blaine's curls were wound up around Kurt's fingers as Blaine spoke, and with each word Kurt would rub the king's crown-freed scalp tenderly, coaxing him to continue, rewarding him for speaking so candidly.

"Anyhow... once her mourning period is over she'll likely go back to the Central Isles where she's from. She spent half the year there as it was before my father died. I think this is the first winter she's actually stayed in the capital - and only out of tradition. She's supposed to visit my father's grave daily for a year after his death."

Kurt knew the tradition, and felt badly for Blaine's mother because of it. He couldn't imagine having to be bound to a corpse for so long regardless of who they were. When his mother died, Burt had to pay a fee to the father at the church to see that his wife's grave was attended to daily because he would not be able to make the trip each day. Carole did the same when her husband had died, and even though it cost money they could scarcely put together, the loss of labor due to travelling would have ended up hurting them more in the long run. Really, it was only those that could afford to do with their time as they pleased that could truly honor the tradition.

"You won't miss her? She did raise you after all."

Blaine shook his head. "No.  Nannies, wet nurses, tutors, and servants raised me. My parents were a political match, not a love match, and I wager my mother never actually wanted children but was obligated to out of duty."

"Never wanted children?" Kurt frowned, fingers pausing in their hair curling ministrations. "That's so sad..."

"Is it?" Blaine sighed, peering back at Kurt who resumed moving his fingers along Blaine's scalp when he noticed amber looking his way. "Do you want children one day?"

"Yes." Kurt didn't hesitate. "I'm excited to meet my niece or nephew... though I hope my new sister hasn't given it one of the fiendish names she came up with."

Blaine chuckled and reached up to gently brush his thumb over Kurt's jawline, a motion he had been using more and more, in cuddles or kisses. "Like what?"

"Olaf... Belkin... Geralt... Ciriella..." Kurt listed off, mind wandering back to the night before he had been pulled from his simple farm life and brought to the castle.

"Those are bad names?"

"You think they're good?" Kurt admonished, glancing down to Blaine with furrowed brows.

Blaine shrugged. "Don't know. I've met people with all those names before... maybe they're regional or something. What would you call children of your own?"

Kurt was silent for a second, first wondering how Blaine had managed to get the conversation away from himself again and then actually thinking about the prospect of children. "Traditional names... perhaps name them after my parents - Elizabeth or Burt... maybe after one of the saints."

"I'd have to name mine according to royal traditions. There's a set list for if I ever have a child."

"When," Kurt corrected, earning himself a scowl from Blaine. "Has the council given you any prospects for a wife?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And I haven't looked at the papers. I don't care." Blaine once again looked away, focusing on the pattern of the tapestry by the closest window.

Kurt wrinkled up his nose and gently batted Blaine on the side in a teasing scold. "You need to. Better to get someone you can coexist with rather than someone who'll make your life miserable."

Blaine huffed. "Right. I already have you after all."

Again Kurt swatted him gently, forcing himself to smile. It made him cringe to think of Blaine with some woman, but he knew it was for the best. "Does she have to be noble? I don't know the requirements."

"Or something of equal standing. The Central Isles don't really follow the same system, but they have a higher class. The idea is that a good mate is supposed to be educated and the like... not that it stopped my father from killing off the men I had slept with before."

Kurt's stomach sunk, a rock squashing down his intestines. He had never heard of Blaine being with anyone else, and as sickening as it was to think of him with a woman, Kurt knew Blaine wouldn't be a willing participant in that kind of union. Now he had confirmation that Blaine wasn't innocent when he laid with him before, and for some reason that upset him though he rationally knew he shouldn't be.

"It's what made me run off, you know... he found out I had been laying with other noble men who had the same inclinations you and I do. My father had an amazing network of spies. In one night he had the guards all storm the homes of those men. They were taken out to the street before the castle, stripped down and castrated without any trial, and then burned alive. He thought it would teach me a lesson."

Kurt's stomach continued to stir, and what made it worse was that he wasn't sure if it was because of how the men died, or because he was still considering that Blaine had been with others. Certainly the former was more justifiable than the latter.

"Anyhow... he's dead. I have you, and there'll be hell to pay if anyone so much as touches a hair on your head."

It was little comfort, especially given that while Kurt had suffered no physical abuse from others, the verbal abuse was still prevalent. It also solidified the need to have Blaine produce an heir to alleviate worries that he was an unfit ruler which would occur if Blaine continued to spend all his free time doing things with Kurt.

Or, at least the free time activities that seemed to matter to people.

~*~*~*~

As spring bloomed into summer, Kurt found himself sweltering in his servant's uniform. There was no amount of ale or water that could quench his thirst and whenever he and Blaine had sex, he ensured it happened as hastily as possible because he could not stand the heat of Blaine's hot, sweaty body against his own when he was insufferably hot and sweaty already. Blaine took it as an affront when Kurt would push him away for after-sex snuggles, but Kurt was undeterred.

"How the hell does anyone stand this weather?"

It made Blaine laugh, especially as he explained that, "The weather here is normal - it's just a frozen wasteland where you're from. One day I'll take you to the Isle of Meket and then you'll really know what heat is."

Kurt shook his head, laying out naked on top of the sheets and internally praying for a breeze to blow through the window and over him. "I'm good, thanks. Maybe you should vacation there with your wife."

The council had narrowed down the choices for a suitable candidate for queen and left the final selection to Blaine who had, in turn, given the information to Kurt.  

"If you pick her, then I won't be able to complain."

On one hand, Kurt wanted to pick someone that Blaine would detest so that Blaine would appreciate him all the more, but Kurt also knew that he wasn't just picking a queen for Blaine, but for all of the realm and so he carefully weighed each option, listened to the gossip about each girl (and how the staff in the castle found out about the list was beyond Kurt), and also did as much research about each of the families the girls came from as he was capable of given his limited reading skills.

In the end, Kurt gave his choice to Blaine who gave it back to the council without a look, hoping that he had done well by his lover and the kingdom. A date for the marriage was announced for early fall, just when Kurt would have been helping with the harvest at home, and, for awhile, the sneering and the crude remarks directed his way stopped as it seemed to everyone that the king was settling down.

Blaine would never speak of impending marriage though, at least not to Kurt. He took advantage of the calm before the marriage to have Kurt accompany him on a grand hunt in the Northern Mountains, where Kurt got some much needed relief from the summer heat and showed Blaine how to skin the foxes he had successfully hunted (though rumors were that everyone always let the king win the hunt to show his skill). It was on this trip, as Kurt aired out the sheets from the king's cabin, that Cooper spoke to Kurt for the first time.

Kurt hadn't expected any words as he saw the knight walk his way, for Cooper was always walking around and by, keeping an eye on everything.This time, however, he stopped right by Kurt and spoke softly.

"You've taken good care of the king."

"It is my honor to serve, lord knight," Kurt responded stiffly, as protocol dictated. He was glad he had a set piece of dialogue to respond with because he was actually quite nervous with the unexpected interaction.

"As an attendant?"

"Of course, lord knight."

"And as a lover?"

Kurt pressed his lips together as his heart banged out an alarm in his chest. His head screamed at his mouth to deny the accusation, but he couldn't speak back to someone of higher status than him, especially when it would be lying.

"I meant you take good care of him as a lover... though I'm sure you make a decent attendant, too."

Again Kurt kept silent, wishing he hadn't washed the sheets so that he wouldn't have been outside, exposed and vulnerable. Blaine was deep in the forest, so if Cooper wished to eliminate Kurt, he would have sufficient time to hide his body before the hunt returned.  

"Our mother doesn't agree with it, and I'm not sure I understand it, but I do know that Blaine seems happier since you came about and whether that's because of you or not I can't say, since my brother doesn't speak openly to me, but I appreciate that you're there for him."

Slowly Kurt's heart steadied as he hazarded a glance up to judge the sincerity of Cooper's words. It could be a trick to get him to admit to sodomizing, but it could also be brotherly love, and Kurt kept his lips shut as he choose to continue listening instead of running away like he wanted to.

"Of course you know that our parents weren't exactly supportive of Blaine's nature, and he and I couldn't be more different. If what you two do was allowed and you were of noble blood, I don't think he would hesitate for a moment before declaring that he would marry you while I jumped into service because I can't fathom being attached with any woman for more than a moment. It's not that I don't like women... it's that I like them too much to choose just one."

Kurt's brows bunched together as he tried to contemplate why Cooper was telling him all that. Why he would share such things with Kurt, and why he was so sure of what Blaine would do when he had just admitted that they weren't close.

"It's imperative though that this marriage is successful. I've been managing my father's old network of spies and there are those that conspire to usurp the throne if Blaine won't father a son. It would be one thing if it was a solitary faction or the grumblings of a disgruntled distant relative, but the reports grow, and that means the concern is growing. If Blaine wasn't the king, I wouldn't care. I've never cared about what he does in the bedroom like our parents have. However..."

"I understand," Kurt finally spoke up, albeit quietly. "I've told him the same things."

"You picked the woman, didn't you?" Cooper asked, smirking a little as he looked down at Kurt who averted his eyes out of respect.

"Yes, Sir."

"Thought so. She's the last one I would have expected Blaine to select."

Kurt couldn't help but grin a little himself, hoping he wasn't making a mistake by trusting Cooper with his words. "She's well-educated, has a history of helping the lower class and is beloved for it by the common people, has travelled throughout the kingdom so she should know a little about the needs of the different regions, comes from a respectable family, and all her family members have no history of miscarriages or sickly children. If anything, they reproduce a little too easily according to public opinion."

Cooper's laugh was bright and bold, startling Kurt for a moment before his grin widened at the sound. "I see I've spoken to you for nothing then. Thank you."

"It is my honor to serve, Sir," Kurt nodded his head in acknowledgement of the compliment, returning to speaking as per his station.

Cooper was not done talking though. In fact, he sat himself down at the table situated outside the cabin and patted the table, summoning Kurt to join him. "Well then... I at least have a proposition for you."

~*~*~*~

In the weeks leading up to the wedding, the castle became even busier than Kurt could envision. No one walked anymore, there was only running and, if a noble was present, speed walking. Custom orders had to be made for dresses and tunics, the palace had to be cleaned top to bottom, decorations were put up in every corner, dishes for the wedding feast needed to be sampled and approved, entertainment similarly needed to be vetted, and housing for special guests needed to not only be set up, but in some cases built from scratch.

The only person not involved seemed to be the groom himself though, as even Kurt had been employed to dust the massive palace library in the evenings after his reading class and before his night shift. Blaine became increasingly withdrawn, even retiring to his room early enough each night that he was there when Kurt came on shift. It became abundantly clear that Blaine didn't want to speak about his impending nuptials, much less face the fact that they would be more than just a thought shoved to the back of his mind soon.

"I like the design for your tunic," Kurt would offer as he looked over the stand where the tailor had been working on wedding garb, only to get a grunt in reply.

"I think the blend of the royal red and the noblewoman's family color of gold look very good together in the decorations."

Another grunt.

"The servants got to try some of the leftover samples for the feast tonight. That peppered duck better be on the menu."

More grunting.

In fact, Kurt was sure that Blaine was reverting to a cave man with his lack of speech, and to fill the silences Kurt would keep talking, keep focusing on the wedding, and keep trying to get Blaine to acknowledge it as his eventual reality.

Finally Blaine had enough of it though.

"Do you want me to be married?! Do you want me to be miserable?! Don't you care for me at all? Don't you want me for yourself as I want you only for myself?" he snapped one evening a week before the event after Kurt had asked when the noblewoman's family would be arriving.

"No. I don't," Kurt admitted, stepping away and to the window where, he looked out at the bright lights below. "I don't want you to marry and I do want you for myself, but what I want is immaterial. You have responsibilities, Blaine... and I care about you enough to not want to see you killed by an overzealous relative vying for the throne, who sees your lack of foresight and sodomy as a reason to make a claim as rightful king."

"I should have stayed away when my father died," Blaine responded quietly, pulling in against himself on the bed. "I should have stayed with you and carved out a new life."

"It wouldn't have been better, Blaine," Kurt said with a sigh, turning away from the window and stepping to the bed where he crept in with Blaine. "If anything, we would have both been burned a long time ago. We get away with our relationship because you are the king."

"Then we could have run away..."

"And both been pulled away from our families instead of just one of us? No, Blaine. I may be afraid of having someone share your bed and I'm always afraid of what will become of me if someone who hates our type that much gets ahold of me... but I won't turn from those things like a coward. I'll face them, as you must."

Blaine sucked in a sharp breath, a movement that Kurt now knew was Blaine's way of holding in a sob, and pulled Kurt in closely against him, holding him in that strong-armed way that was both possessive and loving. "I hate this."

Kurt didn't disagree.

~*~*~*~

Blaine was slow in disrobing. Methodical. Thoughtful. Kurt watched him while laying on the bed, already stripped down. Even in his most upset of moments, Blaine never hesitated when it came to bedding Kurt, but on this, the eve of his wedding, things seemed to have changed.

The clothing finally did all come off though, and when Blaine came into the bed, silently, instead of laying alongside Kurt he knelt down and took Kurt's cock into his mouth, sucking and licking it over reverently until it was hard and towering between Blaine's lips. Kurt just laid back, moaning softly and appreciating the gentle stimulation while his fingers ran over his own nipples.

"I need you. Inside me," Blaine said when he pulled off with a pop and crawled up over Kurt, searching his eyes for allowance.

"Of course," was Kurt's response. While Kurt certainly bottomed more, he always enjoyed switching positions, as Blaine seemed to as well. However, when Kurt reached for the vial of lubricating oil on the nightstand, Blaine's hand fell on his arm.

"No."

"But-"

"If I'm to get through tomorrow... the wedding and the... consummation..." Blaine balked a little with the word, and Kurt understood that it wasn't just bedding the woman that upset him but the fact that he would be watched by a high-ranking member of the clergy to ensure it occurred. "I need to feel you there with me throughout it all."

"I'm not going to hurt you," Kurt said stiffly, drawing his hand back and reaching up to brush a curl away from Blaine's eye.

"Please, Kurt. It won't hurt. I need to be able to feel you..."

Those honey eyes, so pleading, so wide. Kurt's heart broke for the thousandth time since the whole wedding topic was brought up. His hand caressed Blaine's cheek, whose face melted in against the touch, and bent in to peck Blaine on the lips before replying.

"Okay... slowly though."

Blaine nodded once, pulling away from Kurt, but not before pressing a kiss into his palm, and laying back on the bed, legs outstretched. He watched as Kurt again went for the oil, but this time to wet his own length alone, and then pressed the blunt tip against Blaine's dark, dusty pucker.

Slow was the push in, as gentle as Kurt could be with regular pauses as he mentally measured out how much Blaine was gritting his teeth. Kurt enjoyed a bit of a rough romp, though he might never admit it verbally, but he knew when their roles were switched that Blaine preferred things smooth and tender. Regardless of how Blaine seemed to want to hurt, Kurt would not willingly do anything to damage him... at least not physically.

"More... please," Blaine begged when Kurt bottomed out and froze in place to allow Blaine's body a chance to adjust, and he complied - though tediously, edging out at a snail's pace and moving back in again the same. He could feel Blaine’s pulse around him, thumping hard and fast even though he wasn’t keeping time with it.

It wasn't what Blaine wanted though, and Kurt's hips were suddenly grabbed and their bodies rolled together on the bed so that Blaine was overtop of Kurt and pumping his body up and down over Kurt's erection. With a moan, Kurt just watched, reaching to put his hands on Blaine's hips but having them knocked away. If Kurt wasn't going to be rough with him, Blaine was going to make what he wanted happen, and with the amazing tightness bearing down around him, over and over, it was hard for Kurt to argue. In fact, it felt so overwhelming that Kurt was mewling and groaning beneath Blaine, writhing as his orgasm took him without any warning and he shot up into Blaine, who continued to pound himself down upon Kurt until Kurt no longer had an erection to be thrust on.

Blaine hadn't come, and for Kurt that was a problem. He tried to take Blaine's cock in hand, and then in mouth, only to be pushed away with no explanation given. Frustrated, he stood, ready to just leave for the evening if Blaine intended to sulk and make this last night of theirs together, before he was a married man, an ordeal of irritation.

He was grabbed by the hand though, and when he looked back, those sweet, sweet eyes were begging him to stay. "I'm fine," he insisted. "I'll come when we do it again... but I want it to be from a man's... no. YOUR member."

Kurt agreed, of course. It was always difficult to deny those eyes and that face, especially when Blaine seemed to speak poetry, albeit erotic, to his ears.

They spent the rest of the night entangled together, each time Kurt inside of Blaine. Every conceivable position they could manage was employed until Kurt no longer worried about hurting Blaine because he was so stretched and gaping that he could enter him with ease. Tender lovemaking transformed into fucking, and Kurt could no longer produce any seed to spill inside of Blaine - yet still he continued to use Blaine's hole, like an animal marking its territory. Blaine's body was his.

Little sleep was had as a result, but Blaine didn't seem to mind that he'd be sluggish with dark circled eyes at his own wedding. More satisfied than Kurt had ever seen him, he too came until he was dry within and still kept begging for more. Between rounds they kissed and touched one another, bodies committing the other to memory. Kurt ensured he knew each freckle, each ridge, each scar, so that no one could ever say that they knew Blaine better than he.

As the sun rose up, peeking into the window and glazing the floor with its light, Blaine finally dozed off, spread out over the bed in all his glory for Kurt to enjoy. It was then that Kurt quietly dressed himself, laid a kiss to Blaine's cheek, and snuck out of the room. There, Cooper met with him, holding out a bag and escorting him to the stable where a carriage was waiting.

Kurt was to return to his home and help with the harvest. He would get to be an uncle, and be given the distraction he needed while Blaine was settling into married life. He and Cooper both knew that Blaine would need time to focus on being a king and husband, and Kurt being there would compromise the success of producing an heir. He would draw Blaine to his bed instead of the queen's.  

So, as all the other carriages and horses brought people into the palace and the capital for the wedding, Kurt left. A solitary carriage pulling away from the event he didn't want to happen, one that he was glad he would not have to observe, because even as Kurt had lectured Blaine on having courage to face his responsibilities, Kurt did not have the courage to watch the man he loved marry another.

 


End file.
